


Of Dreams

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, gwaine's a good man, in the forest, merlin wants to be a little selfish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:44:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6983581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin wants a lot of things, but not all are his to keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Set during 308.
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal in 2010.

Merlin shifts in his sleep, the leaves by his head scratching at his cheek. His dreams are full of dragon's eyes and trees that talk and potions bubbling over roaring fires and Morgana bathed in a bright light, a knife raised to strike at her father.

He blinks himself awake and Gwaine is there, next to him, checking that he is all right.

“Bad dreams, Merlin?” Gwaine asks.

Merlin merely nods and finds himself shifting slightly closer to the other man, Gwaine's body heat awakening things in him that he really wishes they weren't.

Gwaine smiles and lays down next to Merlin. “You should try and think of something else.”

Merlin nods again. Because yes, he should try and think of something else but there's only one thing that his brain wants to think about right now and it's slowly driving him insane.

“Exercise sometimes work,” Gwaine says after a moments silence. “Getting things out of your system.”

“Right,” Merlin says, his voice like a frog's croak. He coughs and tries again. “Some running, or something.”

He's not even sure what he's saying any more, which is both infuriating and strangely normal. Gwaine must feel that way too because the expression on his face as he looks over at Merlin is fond. More than fond, really, though Merlin is trying very hard not to read anything into it.

Then Gwaine's fingers are slowly carding through Merlin's hair and Merlin decides that he is, in fact, still dreaming. That's the only possible explanation for why a man like Gwaine, big and strong and honorable, would possibly see anything in a simple man like himself.

“Has anyone ever told you, you think too much?” Gwaine asks.

Merlin huffs a small laugh. “No, can't say that they have.”

Gwaine puts his hand on Merlin's chin and pulls him close, so Merlin can feel Gwaine's breath against his mouth. “Well, now they have.”

“Oh,” Merlin says. Because what else can he say? And then Gwaine is kissing him.

It's a thousand times better than his fantasies. Gwaine is clearly experienced, far more experienced than Merlin, but he's gentle too and coaxing, leading Merlin on just enough that he finds himself reaching out and pulling Gwaine closer without really having meant to.

Gwaine doesn’t object.

In fact his moan sends shivers down Merlin's spine and he is moving forward, his erection pressing up against Gwaine before he registers that he has moved. Before he can move away though, Gwaine is pushing aside Merlin's trousers and expertly taking hold of Merlin's cock.

“Oh my...” Merlin pants, before Gwaine captures his mouth again, and it is all he can do to keep on scrabbling at Gwaine's back, to keep a purchase on the here and now.

“So perfect,” Gwaine murmurs and Merlin feels himself blushing. “You really have no idea how amazing you are.”

Merlin would object, but suddenly Gwaine is moving and it is his mouth, not his hand, that engulfs Merlin’s cock with warmth and Merlin bucks up, aware of nothing but Gwaine's mouth and his hands, rough and calloused, and right now spreading him open.

It becomes too much for him. He wants to reciprocate but he's never been the most coordinated of people, and right now his brain has room for nothing except for wave after wave of pleasure as his orgasm takes hold of him.

He doesn't know how much time has passed, but Merlin finally comes back to himself enough to see that Gwaine is finishing himself off, his fingers grasping his own erection and his eyes never leaving Merlin's face. If Merlin was able, he'd come again just from that look.

He feels special in that moment, like he never has before, not even when he learned that he had magic. Like Gwaine is seeing him for who he really is.

Which is ridiculous, because no one knows him like that, not even Gaius. And yet.

And yet there is something about Gwaine that speaks to him in a way no one has before. So it doesn't take him long to make his hand join with Gwaine's and for him to smile as Gwaine's eyes flutter closed and then he's trying to work out what Gwaine likes and what makes him buck and twist in place until he too is gasping and breathing out Merlin's name as if it were the key to everything.

“It's been a while,” Gwaine says after a moment. Merlin blinks in confusion. “Since I've felt this good,” Gwaine adds with a lopsided grin that does strange things to Merlin's thinking. Again.

“Me too,” Merlin says hurriedly. “It's – it was. Good.” He finishes lamely. He's suddenly aware of how exposed they are, out here in the woods. And how sticky.

“Good?” Gwaine asks with a hearty laugh. “Merlin, you are one of a kind.”

Merlin doesn't know how to respond to that, but since Gwaine chooses that moment to pull him into another kiss, all teeth and tongue this time, he decides no response is required.

Merlin shifts closer to Gwaine, who puts an arm around him and then pulls at his blanket and covers them both with it. It's still many hours until nightfall and they have a long day's journey ahead of them, full of the unknown.

Merlin lets his eyes fall closed and listens to Gwaine's heartbeat as it slowly returns to normal. Gwaine is watching him, he can feel it, but for once being under that kind of scrutiny doesn't worry him. In fact it's on the tip of his tongue to tell Gwaine all about him and his magic, but Gwaine is suddenly talking and the moment vanishes.

“I will still have to leave, when we find Arthur. You do know that?”

Gwaine's voice is gentle, if matter of fact, and Merlin swallows any hope that this means more than they can make it. Foolish to even let a shred of wanting something of his own enter his thoughts. That's not why he's here.

“I know,” he says, instead of all the things he wants to say. Instead of all the things he thinks that he maybe should say.

Gwaine just plants a kiss against his forehead. “One day, Merlin. One day when Arthur is king, everything will be different.”

“Yes,” Merlin says, “it will all be different.”

How different neither of them can know, but Merlin feels even surer now that he must take every opportunity that comes his way to enjoy himself and to be selfish. He can feel that such choices will soon no longer be his to make. Destiny has its hold of him and it is refusing to let him go.

“Different doesn't always equal bad, Merlin,” Gwaine says. Then he shifts once more and lays his head back down, obviously intent on sleeping for at least a few hours more.

“I hope you're right,” Merlin whispers. “I really do.”

Then he closes his own eyes and dreams of kings and queens and castles, and a magic that isn't feared or hated, but understood and loved. A dream he's never wanted to believe in so much as he does now.


End file.
